


Snow

by aBarlowRose



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bedrooms, Ficlet, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, One Shot, Short, Short One Shot, Snow, Snow Angels, Tears, spiderman kiss, upside down kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 09:51:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16616687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aBarlowRose/pseuds/aBarlowRose
Summary: It's snowing. Everything is soft.





	Snow

Castiel woke to snow drifting lethargically past the bedroom window and cold seeping into the bones of his toes. He looked down and found that the covers had been pulled free of the mattress and expertly wrapped around the feet of the man who lay beside him. Gazing at Dean, he sighed at the sight of him bundled into the warm down duvet; his back, which was to Cas, rose and fell steadily, and the scar on his exposed shoulder shone a dull red. 

Moving silently, the newborn chill raising goosebumps along his arms and chest, Cas slung his legs over the side of the bed and drew a hand through his hair to tamp it down as best he could. He pulled on his slippers and was contemplating a cup of coffee when he felt the bed shift behind him and warm fingers brush down his spine.

“Stay.” Dean’s voice was gravelly but soft, and Cas almost imagined he could feel the vibrations in his stomach.  

“I thought I’d make some coffee.”

“Stay." 

Cas lay back on the bed, his head resting near Dean’s stomach, his arm tracing an arc from his own hip to Dean’s toes and back. Dean curled forward and kissed him on the nose, then on his shoulder, and once more on bare chest.  

"Aren’t you cold?” he asked Castiel, and then laughed as the dark-haired man scowled.  

“I wouldn’t be if you didn’t steal the covers all the time.”  

At that, Cas got a face-full of flannel sheet. "How’s that?“ Dean said sweetly.  

"Perfect,” came the muffled reply.  

And it was. It was goddamned perfect the way the fabric smelled like Dean; it was goddamned perfect the way heat radiated from his body and warmed the covers; and it was goddamned perfect the way Dean kissed Cas’s lips through the thin material that was still a bit too thick for Cas’s taste at the moment.

With one hand, Cas reached up and grabbed a fistful of Dean’s hair, holding him still while he used the other to remove the imposing sheet, and then closed the space between their mouths. For several minutes, they kissed upside down, Dean hovering over Cas for a breath before urgent fingers pulled him back again. Eventually, Cas’s grip eased and Dean flopped back on the bed grinning, one hand finding its way down into Castiel’s once-again-mussed hair. Cas resumed brushing his arm repeatedly from his hip out to Dean’s toes, occasionally stroking a finger along the arch of Dean’s foot to hear the sound of a sharp intake of breath.

Dean turned to watch the snow falling outside, building tottering towers of fluff on top of the packed snow already fallen, and suddenly, he was out of bed and getting dressed, throwing long johns and a sweater at Castiel as he pulled on two layers of socks. "Get your clothes on. We’re going outside.“

In five minutes, Dean pushed Cas out the door, tucking a blue knit beanie over the other man’s dark hair before pulling on gloves and trudging out into the new snow. It was about seven o'clock, and the sky was just reaching daylight brightness. They walked across the road and into the trees on the other side, Dean stopping beneath a tall pine the branches of which were laden with new snow. Cas stopped beside Dean and Dean took a step closer, pressing his lips to Castiel's— and reaching up to tug at a branch. Dean could feel Cas shiver into his mouth as snow fell down the back of their necks, but the kiss kept them warm enough.  

Dean stepped away smiling, glanced behind him, and fell backwards into the snow with a giggle that made Cas grin. As Cas watched, Dean began to move his arms in an arc like the ones Cas had traced on the bed, his legs scissoring as well.  

Dean calmly but intently examined Cas’s face, and he did not fail to see the smile there falter for a moment. But then Cas dropped back into the snow behind him and resolutely moved his own arms and legs, closing his eyes and taking deep, even breaths. He inhaled the sweet, sharp scent of the pine, and the crystalline openness of the air, and the surprisingly strong smell of Dean from somewhere in front of him. He opened his eyes and found Dean standing over him, offering a hand; Cas accepted it.

As he stood, Dean gently brushed snow from his hat, his jacket, his pants. He held Cas’s arms firmly and looked him up and down as if checking for fractures in something. Cas looked at Dean’s face, so calm and understanding and peaceful, and he smiled. As he did, he felt a tear fall from his eye.  

Dean pulled him close, pressing a kiss into his hair before tucking Cas’s head under his chin. Castiel breathed in the scent of Dean’s skin and listened to the blood pulse through Dean’s neck before whispering, "Thank you.”

“Thank  _you_ ,” Dean replied. "Your wings are beautiful.“

**Author's Note:**

> I've used the word "scissoring" in a non-sexual way and I'm sorry. But snow angels.
> 
> Thanks for reading. Please comment any tw/cw tags you'd like to see applied.


End file.
